


Appreciation

by WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:30:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1380901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo/pseuds/WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pansy insists than Ron takes the time to appreciate things. He's happy to comply, after all it would be rude not to!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Appreciation

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** written for March Madness at hp_humpdrabbles on Live Journal.  
>  **Disclaimer:** All characters and settings belong to JK Rowling.

A slap on the back of his wrist stopped Ron. He'd been hit with a ladle! Only his mother had ever hit him with a ladle.

"Slow down. I took a lot of trouble over that. Appreciate it." 

Ron looked at the woman wearing the shapeless cooks' robes they all wore in the Ministry Canteen, with her hair scraped up under a hygienic net. He thought he recognised her. The nose.

He looked to his right hand which held a cheese and ham baguette and on the back of which was a smear of gravy.

"Sorry," he said. She was right, he'd been shoving down the sandwich without thought. Thick-sliced ham with the fat cut off, a thinner slice of cheddar either side of it, well-placed lettuce, evenly spread pickle on the bottom half of the bread, perfectly judged mayonnaise on the top half. "I've got an interview; I was rushing." He looked at the canteen employee properly. Her eyes were lovely. Her nose was—"Pug-face!" he spluttered in surprise, "erm, I mean Parkinson. Pansy Parkinson!" 

She looked down her haughty – but squished-up – nose at him. "You may call me Miss Parkinson."

"It's a great sandwich. I can taste trouble. The trouble you took, I mean. Not that you're trouble." All of a sudden he could see the outline of her waist inside the ugly work robes. He couldn't believe he'd been about to walk past her without looking. "So, what's a well-bred Pureblood like you doing in a place–?"

"Didn't you have an interview to rush off to?"

"Oh Merlin! Yes. Sorry. Thanks!" 

He couldn't believe how rude he'd been to his colleagues in catering. He'd taken them for granted. For the next month he worked at rectifying that. He paid attention when he chose lunch. It was only polite. Eventually he even got the nerve up to flirt a little. Not with the other cooks, only with Pansy with her naughty sense of humour and shiny hair. That nose was cute, really, not puggish at all. He took his time; he enjoyed the chase. Finally, eventually, when he already knew she'd say yes, he asked her out.

They saved themselves until after they were married. All their friends found that ridiculously old fashioned, but it was what they wanted.

When Pansy slipped her wedding dress off her shoulders Ron sat on his hands. He ran his eyes over her full breasts in silence for several minutes. Only then did he touch. Slowly he stroked every inch of her skin, and then he tasted her nipples. He licked lightly at first. He was determined to make the most of this, to enjoy every minute.

When they were both naked and lying on the bed, he moved to kiss her, but she stopped him. She sat back and stared. "I want to remember this moment for ever," she said when he groaned. "I'm savouring it." Then she climbed on top of him and the real fun began.


End file.
